Blanc et Rouge
by JessSuisu
Summary: The plague that swept across the globe and brought civilization to its knees did a pretty thorough job. The worst is past and most hope is lost, but some light may be salvaged out of the dark. If Matthew can find Alfred, if he can assure his best friend is still alive, he might get through this. ((Human AU, Multi-pairings, warnings inside))
1. Prologue- A Photograph

**This is rated M for suggestive things, language, blood, angst and character death.**

The photo was torn and frayed at the edges, bent horribly out of shape and creased hard into two lines, one vertical and one horizontal, when he unfolded it and smoothed it out with his hand and examined it.

Two sky blue eyes stared back, warm and cheerful as they were, framed in square glasses, brought to a squint to compliment the jaw cracking smile spread far over a pink tinted face, showing his straight white teeth.

Flaxen hair blew in the cold breeze that nipped at his skin, tucked messily in behind pink ears that stuck out a little to much, hair that caught the sun and glowed gold. That one annoying, endearing curl that would never stay straight, sticking up right at the part in his bangs. Darker eyebrows tilted up in amusement, strong angular nose crinkled in a silly, childish way as if he had been caught mid laugh.

Then there was that silly aviator jacket that Matthew had hated so much on him, billowing in the breeze, along with his brownish tie, the collar of his white shirt turned up against his neck.

Matthew Williams flipped the photo over, frowning slightly at the words on the back that were written in blue pen in Alfred's giant loopy handwriting.

_Don't worry Mattie! I'm the Hero!_

_-Al_

Matthew remembered watching Alfred write that, and being surprised that the other boy had even remembered his name. Though they had been close, Alfred was rather forgetful, and it had taken a few years for him to get the Canadian's name down.

Matthew remembered days of getting into all sorts of shenanigans with Alfred, making fun of his friend's accent and confusing him by speaking French. Days wasted lying outside in the sunshine, brawling in the backyard and playing hockey on the lake when the weather permitted. Rocking out to awful music, snowball fights, staying up all night on movie marathons...

None of that mattered anymore, did it?

Matthew laughed bitterly to himself, folding the picture back up, resisting the urge to crumple it and dispose of it that usually came with reminiscing about days gone by. He stuck it back in his jeans pocket, shoving the pistol in his other hand in his waistband before putting on his coat.

"We're going, Kumajiro," Matthew called, shoving open the front door into the bright, snowy ruins of his old city. The white collie at his side looked up at him, ice blue eyes curious. Matthew scratched him behind the ears, shrugging into his pack.

"You ready, Kumajiro?"

The dog barked in response, standing up and turning in a circle before barking again. Matthew nodded and removed his glasses, tucking them neatly into the front pocket of his tan trench coat. He picked up his gas mask, securing it fast against his face, looking down at the dog again.

"Let's go."


	2. Chapter 1: White and Black

Fourteen days it had taken for the world to be brought to its knees. Fourteen days in is when the plague took out its first victim, a patient in an American hospital. The sickness was terrible, and brought out a fever and tremors that never seemed to end, awful coughing that persisted until you could taste blood in your mouth. At the end they said you couldn't feel much other than the heat, always the heat. The sickness spread like a wildfire, across cities and nations and across the world, decimating populations. By the time something was done it was almost far too late. Those who had not taken the necessary precaution of alienating themselves from society were already infected or devoid of any hope, rendered uncaring.

Cities were awful, having to barricade the doors against looters every night before you went to sleep. If you could sleep midst the gunfire and screaming, if you weren't kept up by fever or nightmares, you were undeniably lucky.

Then came the silence which, in its own way, was even more awful than anything from the worst of it. The world was crippled now, a whole different place. When no cars passed by, sitting stock still on the sides of roads and in the middle of highways, jam packed and abandoned at borders. When you could count on your fingers the amount of people walking the streets with you, wrapped in blankets, downcast gazes fixed miserably to the litter-strewn sidewalk.

But if you had survived the worst of it, you could do anything.

Matthew took an inventory of the people around him, three in number. You could never be too paranoid around nowadays, when any day could be your last. He hadn't seen anyone without a sort of weapon on their person at all times since the worst of it, and you had to be especially vicious with competition to survive her especially, in the middle of an unseasonably cold, full-blown Canadian winter.

But they showed no interest in him, or one another, too caught up in their own woes to be able to care about the affairs of strangers in the street. That was fine. Not like he needed human interaction anyway.

Matthew continued down the street, hands stuck warily in his pockets, closer to his gun. A man across the street had a nice looking rifle strapped to his back, though, if he decided he didn't like something...

That was fine, Matthew figured. He shouldn't have that much trouble. He wouldn't be that unlucky if he kept to himself.

Snow crunched under his feet as he and Kumajiro proceeded down the desolate road, weighing his options. They should probably get out of the city, it had become increasingly dangerous, but on the off chance that Alfred was still there...

No. He couldn't risk his own life or Kumajiro's on a hunch. He didn't even know if his friend was alive. So many had already died of fire, or of plague, or in the enormous riot that had occurred near the end of the worst of it. And if Alfred had managed to live, why would he stick around here? He had never even been a fan of the cold anyway.

So it was wishful thinking.

It was starting to snow again, as if the weather had decided that the calf high snow was not near enough snow on this fine day, and it was gaining intensity quite quickly. Not even a full day of travelling and they were already blocked...

"Kumajiro, we'll take shelter for the rest of the day, OK?" Matthew said quietly, voice muffled by the mask. The dog did not acknowledge him, too focused on the people in the street to care.

"Fine, be that way." Matthew shifted under the weight of his backpack uncomfortably, looking back at the man with the gun far out in the distance. "Scout out a good place though, OK?"

They were getting to the part of the city that was hardly fit for living, decimated by a raging fire that has spread through the burning of bodies in the streets during the worst of it. If you had been there, you could recall the acrid stench of burning flesh in smoke. Not that anyone would want to recall that. The houses down this way were all burned, the entire street black and white, devoid of any life, plant or otherwise.

At the end of the road though, outside the disaster zone, was a nice little house that had probably been lovely at one point. The white picket fence outside was grey and peeling paint, the house itself looking a bit worse for the wear, crusted with ice and ash.

No doubt someone would be living there.

Matthew pulled his pistol out slowly, cocking it and walking up the drive. He could have sworn he saw something move in the window, the lacy white curtains move, but Kumajiro seemed pretty calm, so he gave it the benefit of the doubt. He paused by the door, listening for a moment, waiting for Kumajiro to react. When he didn't, Matthew opened the door.

If the door was unlocked, chances were that there was nobody home, but even so. He slammed the door shut behind him, and locked it, gathering his bearings.

There was a creak up the stairs.

Matthew steeled his courage, gave Kumajiro one last look, and headed up.


	3. Chapter 2: Red and Green

Two minutes was all it took. Just her little blonde head disappearing from view for two minutes, and her older brother was sent into a panic.

"Lili?"

They had been standing in the square on her request. She had wanted to go to the square, despite it having seen better days. How could he say no? And while he was focused on the people moving by warily, she had disappeared and he had begun to panic.

"Lili? Where are you?" As much as he tried to assure himself she could be around the corner petting a dog or chasing some birds, he couldn't really keep his panic down.

Basch Zwingli's nerves had been frayed a long time ago. He and Lili had come this far, and the prospect of losing her at any time was an awful one.

"You're being irrational," he muttered to himself, tightening his grip on his shotgun, looking around. It was peaceful here, at least. Peaceful and cold and chock full of snow that he did not particularly care for. Nothing he wasn't used to, of course. Switzerland could get pretty cold too.

But it was silent here, too, with only the occasional scrape of boots against pavement nearby, or the barking of a dog. He quite liked the quiet. He had always liked the quiet.

"LILI. WE RE GOING," Basch called, loud enough to send a small flock of pigeons into a frenzy. Two of the pedestrians on the street looked up, one of them giving him an evil look. He was quickly dismissed by the nervous boy, Basch was far too preoccupied with getting an answer. "LILI."

"Stop yelling please!" Came the reply in German, his younger sister's sweet, girlish voice calming him almost instantly. She was fine. She was safe. What had he been so worried about?

Damn paranoia.

Lili was running at him, a sweet little smile spread over her face. The purple bow in her hair bounced with each step. She waved an arm at him when he turned his head, giggling. "There was a cat, big _bruder_! He was awfully cute."

Basch tried to defrost the frosty scowl that was on his face a good part of the time to make her happy, but to no avail. He was cold, these boots were uncomfortable, his feet were going numb, and a scuffle had broken up across the street. One more thing to worry about.

The girl seemed uncaring, bouncing up to him and giving him a big hug. "Can we get out of the cold now, big _bruder_? I don't like it."

"If that is what you want," Basch replied, ruffling snow out of her hair, making her giggle. "We should go soon anyway. The weather looks like it's getting worse..."

"Are we going back to that house?" Lili took her brother s hand as he slung his gun over his back. Basch hesitated at that, wondering if he should actually mention that the house had some new inhabitants.

They'd been evicted- or rather he had- at gunpoint, after almost two months of staying there. But the raiders taking pity on the two of them. Basch himself was an adult, little over twenty, but Lili was still a child. They'd been allowed to stay one last night safely in exchange for one of Basch's guns.

Damn those horrid people.

"No, we'll go somewhere new, OK?" Basch looked at his younger sister, whose face fell.

"But what about-"

"The cat? I'm sure he'll be fine, Lili. Don't worry about him." He started leading her down the road, not entirely sure where he was going. Beyond the burned area left over from the worst of it was all housing. Usually safe enough. But he didn't want to bring Lili through the burned district, she was still too fragile for all of that. They could take the back alleys...

"Lili do you have your gun?" Basch made a sharp turn and the girl trailing behind him caught the curb and nearly fell.

"_Ja_..."

"Keep it out. Where we re going can get a bit dangerous. Just stay behind me, OK?"

"_Ja_." Lili bobbed her head, trying to look brave. Basch opened his mouth to say something to reassure her, but he wasn't going to fool her with false statements like _everything will be fine_.

Right. Come along then.

The back alleys were shrouded in shadows, dumpsters either completely empty or filled to overflowing with god-knew-what. Trash littered the ground. It was like a maze back here, a maze of broken and faded brick and graffiti.

Lili was too focused on the sprawling murals of a past age, the graffiti that covered nearly every wall back here had her mesmerized. Most of it was a depiction of the world before the sickness, full of worn, colourful pictures of people, places and words. Some were almost covered in snow, but it was still quite exciting to see.

Basch was too busy pointing his gun at anything that moved, so nervous that he felt sick. He hated himself for thinking this was a good idea, bringing Lili back here. Who knew what was hiding behind that dumpster or rustling in that particularly large pile of garbage?

Even one wrong encounter with a cat would be catastrophic.

"Big_ bruder_, calm down a bit!" Lili touched his shoulder lightly, pointing at a depiction of a lovely girl with brown hair holding a white flag with the words freedom scrawled over it roughly. "Look! Aren't they pretty? I like her the best. She's very pretty."

Basch paused, loosening his grip on his rifle a bit. "_Ja_, she really is pretty, isn't she? I like her hair." It took a moment for Basch to realize _why _he liked her hair, and it turned his face pink, sending his mind into a flurry of protest. Not that Lili noticed. He could blame the cold.

Silence. It was unsettling silence, though. Not the silence Basch liked. He put an arm out protectively, gently moving Lili behind him so she couldn't see the shadow coming up through the alley across from the picture.

His pulse thudded in his ears as he raised his gun, taking aim. Lili gripped the back of his jacket, trying to see around him. "Big _bruder_?"

There was a sneeze, and the gun went off a second later, Lili's scream soon to follow. Basch swore under his breath, pressing his rifle into Lili's hands.

"B-big_ bruder_-" She was swept into his arms, and Basch started to run. He hadn't meant to do that, it had scared might have just killed an innocent person. And now he was leaving them to die.

But Basch was far past caring.

So he ran, and he didn't care where they were going or what Lili would see on the way. Her eyes were fixed on his face anyway, wide and scared. He wasn't sure how long he ran, it was until they were out of the alley maze, the charred remains of the burned buildings behind them, Lili begging for him to stop running, he was tiring himself out.

Basch didn't stop until he knew they were safe. He set her down gently, bending over with his hands on his knees, panting hard. The icy air burned his lungs and he felt more sick than he had, nerves more than anything.

"Big _bruder_? Let's stop here, OK? You're tired... Here, come on." Lili grabbed his arm, pointing at the nearest house. It was a nice little house that had probably been lovely at one point. The white picket fence outside was grey and peeling paint, the house itself looking a bit worse for the wear, crusted with ice and ash.

But it was far enough into the disaster zone that nobody would really want it, so maybe it would be safe? She handed him back his heavy rifle and led him inside.

He forgot to lock the door.


	4. Chapter 3: White and Green

Matthew could have sworn he'd heard voices when he was coming up the stairs, and that had given him pause. Was he sure he wanted to fight for this house with someone else? It was too late to turn back now, he figured, already halfway up the shadowy staircase. There was a sort of eerie silence now, no further noises to be heard, and Kumajiro was on high alert. Someone was here, he was almost certain, but whoever it was he was sure he could handle them. Or at least that was what he was telling himself.

Matthew had to be careful. Going down the hardwood hall, the floors creaked easily, and that was a dead giveaway. He scanned the area, steadying his silent footfall. Everything in the hall was coated with a fine layer of dust. Pictures of the family that had lived here before still hung up on the walls, broken glass and stray articles of fabric littered the floor. It was still really cold inside, it wasn't like there was heat in here or anything. His quiet breath left a cloud of vapour suspended in the air in front of him. Matthew brought his pistol up, keeping calm. No need to panic, he could handle this. Whatever _this_ was, anyway. Kumajiro was prowling along behind him, head bent low and wary.

In the room at the end of the hall, a soft whimpering could be heard, feminine and childlike, and rough, hushed whispering. Both were muffled by the door they were hidden behind, shut tight. Matthew grimaced as the floor creaked under his foot. The sound of the voices ceased immediately. Matthew stopped where he was when the door cracked open, heart hammering away in his chest. Now he was panicking. Should he back out now? Was this house really worth losing his life over?

He didn't have a chance to decide.

The door flew open and the next thing he knew he was on his back with a very angry blonde man standing over him screaming in German and pointing a rifle in his face. Matthew quickly dropped his pistol and put both his hands up, staring terrified into the barrel. Kumajiro was going nuts behind them, barking and growling, but making no moves towards the threat to his master.

The man with the gun stood there screaming for a while, Matthew screaming back and pleading in French until he finally got it.

"Get out of here," The blonde man snarled, switching to French as well. Matthew got over the brief surprise of the collapsed language barrier and his gaze drifted from the angry man to the little girl standing wide-eyed in the doorway behind him. She looked utterly terrified, and her mouth was moving as if she were trying to say something, but couldn't get the words out. Matthew frowned at her, but the man commanded his attention once more with a sharp jab of his gun to Matthew's chest.

"Can we talk this over? You don t really want to kill me in front of her, do you?" Matthew nodded at the little girl. He felt much calmer now that he knew she was there. Unless this guy with the gun was heartless, he wouldn't blow the brains out of an innocent man in front of her, would he? The girl started saying something in German until the man cut her off. Matthew desperately wished he could understand.

"Does she want to see you kill me? Go ahead then. Shoot me," Matthew said quietly. The man tightened the grip on his gun, hissing.

The little girl came forward, brushing past her companion who started protesting. She ignored him and bent low, holding out her hand to Matthew and smiling. "Lili," she said, pointing at herself. Her accent was heavy, and Matthew doubted she spoke any English at all. This may cause a bit of a problem. No matter.

He nodded and pointed at himself. "Matthew."

She pointed at the man, who began protesting again. she ignored him once more. "Basch._ Mein bruder_."

Matthew nodded, but that last part had him lost. The man started saying things in German again, but Lili just went over to Kumajiro, who was cowering near the stairs. She pointed at the dog, looking over at Matthew curiously. "...Who?"

"Kumajiro," Matthew said quietly, looking back at Basch, whose gun was lowered now. "I'm not a raider or anything, I'm not here to hurt you, I just need a place to stay."

"And I'm supposed to trust you on that?" Basch snarled.

"You could try, I guess... It's safer in a group anyway, eh? I'll do my own thing and you can do yours, you won't even know I'm here. Lock me in a room if you have to just... please. I don't have anywhere else to go..."

Lili looked at Basch hopefully, her emerald green eyes wide in the darkness, pleading. Basch dropped his gun, sighing. "One wrong move and I'll blow your head off, understand?" He straightened his white beret and turned. "One wrong move..." Basch stalked back into the room, leaving Lili, Matthew and Kumajirou in the hallway.

"He is nice," Lili said quietly in English, so preoccupied with the dog that Matthew wasn't sure if she meant Kumajiro or Basch. He figured Basch.

"Yeah? I think so too. Or maybe he could be. If he hadn't pointing a gun at my face." Matthew stood up, brushing dust off his coat, looking over at the girl who had not understood a single word he had just spoken.

"He is nice, just sad," Lili said, half smiling, looking over at Matthew. She motioned for Kumajiro to follow her, gripping Matthew's arm as she led him into the room that Basch was in, closing the door behind them, putting Matthew on edge.

"Oh, relax," Basch muttered under his breath. He was sitting on the end of a double bed, scowling at Matthew. "I moved the only other bed in this house in here for myself but if you're here, you can have it. But you'll have to take the floor, I'm afraid."

Matthew looked at the mattress on the floor, hesitant. He looked back at Basch, about to protest, that he was perfectly fine sleeping on the floor.

"It's fine. I'm staying up to keep watch anyway. And it's not as if I could kill you anyway. Lili would not believe me if I said you walked away. So you may as well get some sleep."

Matthew nodded slowly, a bit dazed from the strange man's kindness. He beckoned Kumajiro over as he sat on his lovely new bed. Matthew slipped off his backpack and pulled out the blankets he had packed, arranging them around him and Kumajiro.

Lili has already pulled off her coat and kicked off her shoes, burrowed down under the covers in the other bed. She yawned and gave a happy sigh, closing her eyes.

"_Gute nacht, Bruder_," she said sleepily. "_Gute nacht_ Matthew."

Basch kissed her forehead, standing up, and Matthew smiled, pulling the blankets over his shoulders. He was far too nervous to sleep, and didn't feel entirely comfortable doing so. He hadn't actually spent this much time with real people since before the riot, and it was a really weird feeling to suddenly have people around him.

"Why are you staring at me, eh?" He asked Basch, a bit irritated. The other man smirked. He was barely visible in the dark, but Matthew could feel his stare. That was something he definitely did not miss about having people around.

"I'm trying to figure out what it is you want from us exactly. Why would you want to stick around?" Basch slumped to the floor by the door, leaning his back against it, leaning his chin on the butt of his gun.

"It's nice to be in the company of humans again, I suppose," Matthew said quietly. "I've been alone since the riot. And before that I really didn't have anyone to survive the end of the world with. You'd think I was invisible, I swear..."

"...Hm." Basch let that settle, looking up at the ceiling.

"Why? Do you think I'm some sort of psycho maniac ax killer or something?" The Canadian raised an eyebrow, amused.

"I think everyone has killed at least someone at this point," Basch replied grimly, serious as ever. Matthew figured he meant himself, but he decided not to ask. It seemed too personal a question to ask a complete stranger. Instead, he sprawled out on the mattress, closing his eyes.

"Eh. _Bon nuit_, Basch..."

The other man just mumbled something gruffly, and was silent until Matthew had drifted off.


End file.
